


all i have to do (is dream)

by makeitbetter



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: M/M, just a lil drabble thing, oh look we're back to pining again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:51:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeitbetter/pseuds/makeitbetter
Summary: chimerical - wildly fanciful; highly unrealistic//(or: john thinks about paul a lot, nothing new there)





	all i have to do (is dream)

**Author's Note:**

> my inner english grad cried a few tears of joy when i pulled this trash up out of my phone storage. title is from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbU3zdAgiX8) song.

**chimerical** \- _wildly fanciful; highly unrealistic _

it’s just a word, and yet the page of the dictionary has been sat open in your lap for the past ten minutes. hundreds of words and rhymes you could choose, but it’s this one you’ve turned back to five times now, something that’s caught your attention. maybe it’s because a part of you thinks you’ve always been that way - _fanciful_, just a little bit. some could call it a flaw - you would call it an asset. you have to be able to dream the unrealistic to get on the road to where you’re going, all the way to the top.

in the corner, the guitar comes to the end of its rhythm.

“still with me?”

you look up, glance over to where paul is watching you - and you have to bite back the _always_ that bubbles up in your throat.

(just like you, paul has always been a bit fanciful too, no matter how _realistic_ he tries to be, and you’re aware that it’s probably not because of the thing you’re _hoping_ it is.)

“what’s going on in your head, johnny?” he asks again when you don’t answer, even though you two have never run out of ways to fill a silence, never had a need to.

_dangerous question_, you think.

“chimerical,” you say aloud; it’s cryptic and you know it, and paul opens his mouth like he’s about to argue about it, tell you to just say what you bloody _mean_ for once -

\- and then he closes it again, because it’s a monday morning and it’s not the time to argue over something as small as one stupid word in the dictionary.

he goes back to his guitar, and you go back to the pages of your book, but there’s a moment where you’re convinced he’s watching you like he’s _looking_ for something, and you think hope is quite a dangerous thing to people who dabble in the unrealistic.


End file.
